Bubbles and Fire
by Rosemary Lavender Sage
Summary: Snow thinks about Bigby, Bigby thinks about Snow but they don't talk about it. It's important to keep things professional. Quick, shameless smut.


Snow collapsed onto her bed. An empty bottle of champagne lay forgotten on the desk next to her. The buzz she had going made her sheets feel delicious on her hot skin. She wiggled around, legs sliding smoothly on the cotton, a goofy smile wide on her face. Snow scrunched and stretched her toes and let out a big, happy sigh.

She never got drunk in public because she knew it made her uncharacteristically silly. Thank goodness she wasn't a sad drunk, or this could have ended badly. It had been quite a week. Snow relished the warmth in her cheeks. She could relax. The Crooked Man was a bird now, pecking about in his cage. The bubbles in the champagne took all the stress away. Thank goodness for that gift from Bigby. He brought her the bottle earlier that night, insisting that she celebrate their victory. He had such big puppy eyes, she couldn't refuse. The bottle even had a bow on it. Damn wolf was right. The alcohol had come in handy when she couldn't fall asleep.

Thank goodness for Bigby. He treated Auntie Greenleaf with kindness despite her orders. Because of that, they were able to lock the Crooked Man up instead of throwing him down the Witching Well. He was an awful man who took advantage of Fabletown's troubles, but he was there for the people when she wasn't. A death sentence was not the way to end this. She was glad the crowd hadn't given in to mob mentality. Snow pouted.

Maybe Bigby was right about her getting too caught up in the rules. Maybe that's how the office became so out of touch with so many Fables. The thought should have upset her but instead she giggled at the idea of Bigby chastising her for not being empathetic… the Big Bad Wolf, lecturing her on compassion.

She pursed her lips. Hmmm… Big Bad Wolf. Snow rolled onto her back with a huff. She cradled the back of her head with her hands. Still smiling, she bit her lip and rubbed her thighs together under the sheets. The friction there felt like sparks on top of her bubbles. It was then that she noticed there was still a half a glass of champagne on her bedside table… she downed it. Big… Bad… Wolf… The pressure of the cold glass on her lips felt amazing. She was flushed and fuzzy.

Snow pulled her hair out of its undo, softly moaning as her hair tumbled about her. She ran her hands through it, massaging out the stress at the nape of her neck. The pressure she applied there soothed her thoughts.

She closed her eyes and imagined lying in Bigby's lap, his sure fingers replacing hers. She thought about the rumble of his voice and his wide puppy eyes. His hands would smell like cigarettes… she had started to love that smell.

"Mhmmm… Bigby…"

* * *

In the smallest apartment in the Woodlands, Sheriff Bigby was wide awake. He sat in the dark, his Huff n' Puff rhythmically illuminating his face as he smoked. Drinking bourbon straight out of the bottle, he mulled over what had happened over the past few days.

Policing the town by himself often felt like it was too much. His reputation was so dark, people were so afraid of him, that he hadn't needed to use force as often as he expected in this murder investigation. Most Fables spilled their secrets in a haze of fear at a snarl from him. He took a deep drag of his cigarette. He always held himself in check because he was ashamed of the way the other Fables looked at him. He could smell their collective fear when he walked into a room.

Collin's words drifted back to him. They seemed like forever ago. The corners of Bigby's mouth turned down. He was not acting different just for Snow. Bigby was sure that she didn't feel anything for him, so why would he waste centuries fighting his own reputation for nothing? Collin didn't make any sense. She never worried about him, that is until he took a silver bullet in front of her. Still, he was sure they were just friends. Her concern was friendly.

The whiffs of arousal he smelled on her every so often were coincidences. People get aroused. It's normal, he smelled it on other people all the time. But he could never get the way she smelled out of his mind. Sometimes he latched onto that scent like it was his lifeboat in this sinkhole of a city. If he had to be honest with himself, she smelled impossibly good whenever she got turned on. Sometimes, he could tell it was him setting her off. Bigby held that scent close at night, when he was falling asleep. He swore he could smell it now… Bigby took a deep breath in. Wait, he really could smell it.

Under the stink of his cigarette he could smell something twenty times as intoxicating. Snow's arousal, only a few floors up. Usually he could only smell other people in the complex when he focused hard. Even then it was heavy scents like perfume and garlic that were this clear.

But his damn nose let him know whenever Snow was feeling hot and heavy. Bigby took a sharp drag of his cigarette. After thinking Snow was dead… he was thankful for the reminder that she was still in one piece.

Bigby pinched the bridge of his nose as he breathed out smoke, fighting his hardest to keep the image of "her" severed head on the front stoop out of his mind. With the Crooked Man locked up and Georgie dead he had expected some relief. But no, the picture was stuck behind his eyes forever. He brought the bottle of bourbon to his lips and took a loud gulp. Bigby killed his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray next to him. The fire in his belly burned hot and he sat back into his chair.

He took a vigorous inhale of her scent. It seemed to surround him tonight. Something to do with the heat, the humidity in the air. Maybe her window was open. Bigby sucked in more scented air.

Bigby closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He imagined lapping up her juices in person. He groaned quietly. Unbuttoning his pants, he took his length into his hand and started pleasuring himself. He was too drunk to care at this point. He imagined parting the lips of her cunt and delving his tongue inside her wet heat. She must be dripping wet tonight. Bigby's nostrils flared as he started panting. He could taste her.

She'd moan load as hell when he flicked his tongue over her clit, he was sure. He'd put one finger in and be rewarded with a soft gasp, and then he'd add more and fuck her slowly with his hand. He thought about swirling his tongue around her pearl and clutching an ass cheek with his free hand. Bigby would give her a good seeing to. Flicking his tongue over everything fleshy and pink, he'd taste all of her. He could feel her legs clamping around his head, she'd be shuddering. Bucking up into his face. Snow would cry out "yes," and "don't stop," and "Bigby! Bigby!" as she came.

Bigby made a strangled sound and came hard with thoughts of his name on her legendary deep red lips. "Shit, fuck, Snow!" Everything went black and trails of fire moved across his body. Slowly, his heart calmed down.

He felt cold all of a sudden, the sheen of sweat on his body evaporating quickly with the help of his tiny fan. Bigby's eyes fluttered closed and he fell into a deep sleep, Snow chanting his name in his dreams.

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